The Shortest Hunger Games
by Catori Abbott
Summary: Short Hunger Games fanfic before Katniss. OC's only. Sad, character death, actually a lot of death. I don't know if this would be M, so I'm making it T. Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games.


Lena's breathing became more rapid as the tube rose up into the arena. Crisp wind chilled her as she caught her first sight of this year's Hunger Games. A snowy forest sprawled out in front of her, beautful yet sad. There was the Cornucopia, weapons and backpacks spilling out the front of it. She found it cruel that they would the Cornucopia filled with weapons, when in history it was filled with food. It was painful irony.  
Few birds perched, unmoving upon the bare branches. 23 other tributes stood on their marks, gazing at the arena. It was a scary wonder. "20. 19." Tributes eyes left the arena and stared intently on weapons, or backpacks in a hungry way. Everyone wanted to live. But Lena's eyes stayed on the bare forest ahead. "6. 7." Her body tensed in anticipation, legs readying her to run. Everything was planned, there was no reason to worry. Lena took a deep breath, swallowing her fear. "3. 2. 1."  
The shrill sound of the buzzer came on, buzzing in her ears. The arena seemed soundless, only the buzzing was there. Her body was in the air for a second as she leapt from her pedestal. Tributes ran, grabbing weapons and bags. Some staying and fighting, other's trying to flee. Lena's feet flew effortlessly over tree stumps and other obstacles and she made her way through the forest. She didn't notice a single tribute other than herself make it out.  
Grabbing onto an icy branch of a tree, she hoisted herself up and climbed high. Her eyes caught sight of Careers killing without mercy, grins spread across their faces . Their eyes were lit up and blood thristy. So many bodies littered the ground. The snow wasn't white for even a minute.  
Lena forced her gaze to the sky as the first parachute of the games glided down gracefully. The silver parachute latched onto a tree limb, just above her head. Lena steadied herself and reached up, prying it free. She opened the container, and retrieved her weapon: a revolver complete with ammo. She just looked at if for a minute. The dark color of the gun, such a contrast against the snow covered tree. She grabbed the ammo, and closed the container.  
Most of the time, such weapons weren't added. But the game-makers never said sponsers couldn't give her this. The tribute jumped from her tree, ignoring the pain that shot through her feet and up her legs at the sudden impact. She walked back to the blood bath, eyes frozen in front of her. Stopping at the edge of the clearing, she counted the tributes. 12 dead, the other 11 fighting.  
Slowly, she loaded her gun and raised it, aiming at her first victim. With an intake of breath, she closed her fingers around the trigger. A bullet sped through the air, only stopping when it impaled a Career as he lobbed a knife at a young tribute. Blood erupted from the side of his head as he fell to the ground. Her first kill. She glanced around, aiming at another Career and shooting as she sliced the head off of a boy from district 3. Her body landed next to his head in a gruesome manner.  
Lena kept shooting, a silent assasign. Soon, it was her and the 12 year old boy from her own district. His eyes were glimmering with tears, and he was clutching the stump of an arm. Someone had disabled him... Blood dripped through his fingers, like raindrops. How sick the Hunger Games was.  
Lena walked forward, eyes set on her last victim. He had no where to go, so he cowered in fear. Silent tears rolled down his flushed cheeks, his eyes stuck on her weapon, not her. Lena smiled in a sad way, watching as the last tribute made his final stand. "The Hunger Games is no place for two tributes." She whispered. She aimed at his head, planning to make his death quick and painless. "Sorry." She said aloud, just enough for him to hear. His blue eyes caught her gaze, asking the unasked question: _Why are you doing this?_ Then, before he had a chance to respond, she killed him. His small body hit the ground, a mop of brown hair tinged red at the wound. Her heart thumped against her chest painfully. This was the shortest Hunger Games in history.  
Lena smiled as snow melted against her bare skin on her arms. "Lena Parinson has won the 67th Hunger Games." Said the announcer in an amazed voice. Lena slid her last bullet into place, lifting the gun to her head. "There's no Hunger Games without a victor." She mumbled. Her heart raced, she didn't want to die. _"Please, win. Won't you?"_ Her brother had asked the last time she saw him. _"I promise to try."_She had replied.  
But she broke that. She didn't even try to live. Her hand tightened around the gun, finally gaining courage. He'd never have to go into the Hunger Games. Not after this.  
A single tear fell down her face, falling into the snow as Lena's fingers closed over the trigger, sending the bullet into her skull. Her limp body fell to the ground, dead eyes staring into the sky. The arena dimmed the lights, and everyone watching was surprised. Was this the beginning of a rebellion? A light snowfall covered her, the snow beneath her stained red. There was no room for a tribute in the Hunger Games.


End file.
